Echo
by FlandersMare
Summary: 'She didn't want to go, didn't want to venture out there, didn't want to go find this 3rd year that had been shackled with her.' New school, new faces, new opportunity to blend into the back ground noise. Nice try, sweetheart. OC.
1. Chapter 1

Why the hell does it have to be pastel yellow? Seriously, what was wrong with the navies and blacks used in other schools' uniforms? Why this shade of congealing custard?

Hibiki glared at her reflection as she held her new school's proposed uniform against her front. It was no use, the damn thing completely washed her of colour, the yellow making her look pasty. She didn't have that much to work with in the first place.

She sighed, tossing the dress back onto her bed. It didn't fit her anyway, too small in the shoulders. She'd have to take it back to the tailor's at some point. She couldn't help but smile at that, anywhere else would have had the basic school shop. Not this place, with its small platoon of tailors and seamstresses.

Hibiki huffed and flopped backwards onto the bed, staring listlessly at the ceiling. This pattern was getting old, really old. Move to wherever Father was stationed, enrol, start classes, get mocked, get ignored, move again. It had been the same for the last year and a half. She'd sat through 9 different interviews, eaten in 9 different cafeterias, received 9 sets of 'Welcome' ambushes from the established school thugs. It had better be different this time. Ought to be, this place had offered the option of boarding.

Now she was in an apartment usually reserved for foreign teaching assistants, in an institution that resembled the Vatican, awaiting the arduous process of her segregation, otherwise known as classes to start tomorrow on Monday.

Hibiki huffed again and closed her eyes and proceeded to try and talk herself out of her bad mood. This place was a good school, specialising in international relations and history and literature and, well, everything it seemed. She'd seen some of the various facilities on her wanders over the last few days, under the guidance of the school's Chairman. That had impressed her. She knew Father had contacts, but to be shown round by the man who runs the place?

There was potential here, she kept telling herself, there was potential. There were specialised staff to help her if she needed, she could finish secondary school here without having to follow Father's work around, she had an array of extra-curricular activities to amuse herself, heck she effectively had her own flat. These could be the best years of her life.

Well it could be guaranteed, if it weren't for her fellow students. She hadn't met any yet but what she had seen from a distance filled her with dread. To start with there seemed to be two breeds of girl; the gigglers and the glarers as she'd dubbed them in her head. One half all beaming, groundless smiles which didn't quite reach the eyes every time. The other walked in icy silences, moving in packs like wolves, only decidedly less aesthetically pleasing, never saying a word. All rather standard, nothing she hadn't seen or handled before.

The men on the other hand, they seemed new. The clichés she'd seen boys slot into since she was 12 didn't seem to apply here. She didn't know if it was the fact she was observing from a distance but they all seem to act a little older than they were meant to be, already in the proverbial suits and ties. They were all men in boys' bodies rather than boys trying to be men. All a little strange really.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the top corner of the door swing away from the frame. Sighing, again, Hibiki strained her neck to look over at the doorway. Milo's dark head appear around the door, patient eyes finding her and staring pointedly at her. Hibiki groaned and rolled over on her side. She didn't want to go, didn't want to venture out there, didn't want to go find this 3rd year that had been shackled with her. He probably didn't know he had either. Nope, she was just going to lie here and ignore the growing pain in her stomach which reminded her that she hadn't eaten since yesterday lunchtime. So when the combined efforts of Milo tugging on her sleeve and the acid in the stomach all but eating its way through the muscle wall, she didn't rise with good grace.

Glowering, she snatched an envelope and a hand drawn map up off the desk opposite her bed, scanning it quickly to remind herself of her destination. West wing, second floor, third music room. Right. Giving her reflection a quick evaluation and deciding she had neither the time, patience nor heavy duty equipment to make herself look presentable, Hibiki stuffed her feet into her boots and stuffed the letter and map into the breast pocket of her shirt. Milo was waiting calmly by the door, watching the room's inhabitant stomp delicately towards the door. She wrenched it open and held it as Milo slipped out in front of her, turning his dark head to observe the corridor before moving off ahead of her. Hibiki shut the door and locked it, stowing her keys in the back pocket of her jeans. She leaned against the shut door for a second, letting her eyes slip close. Against her better judgement, she was going to give this place a good shot, she was going to try and make this work. Somehow. Growling she pulled out the map again and set off down the corridor. This Morinozuka character better be ready for this.


	2. Chapter 2

"Come along gentlemen. The ladies will be arriving soon and we must be ready to welcome them back to this new term." One Kyoya Otori stood leaning against a column, journal and pen out, scribbling down unknown wisdoms as he watched the rest of the host club flit around the third music room. The flurry of movement and colour which filled the room making him resemble a moth in a storm of butterflies. He straightened the waist coat of his dark three-piece suit before tucking his ledger into an inside pocket of his jacket and turning to face the other hosts as they busied themselves preparing for their guests in this pre-matriculation session.

Today's dress run was a new theme, 'Classroom Romance' as it had been christened. Although the majority of male teachers at Ouran was could pass for relics from the last century, they were excellent at their jobs. Those moustached, straight backed silver foxes could command a class without fail, but it was the occasional glimpse of a young puppy of a teaching assistant that got the girls sighing during lessons. As there was little fantasy fodder on the teaching staff, Tamaki had had a brainwave.

Each of the hosts had their roles and jobs. The twins could be seen in a corner, muttering to each other as they scripted and blocked a 'Detention' scenario. Mori was putting the finishing touches to the blackboards, each standing with chalk ready to be adorned by the guests. Huni was seated on his usual plush sofa, watching as Tamaki fussed over the black baby grand piano in the middle of the room as he himself stacked his books on classical and foreign literature. Tamaki was dressed as what had claimed was 'a style fitting for a man who suffers for his music'. Black trousers, frayed and darned, along with a loose sleeved dress shirt and a charcoal waist coat. He looked bedraggled and a little underfed in his too large attire and was very happy with the effect. He had taken to the persona of an artiste with such vigour, Haruhi was muttering about 'missing the OLD crazy Tamaki'. Little Haruhi, still ruddy in the cheek having carted a complete works of Shakespeare from the library on behalf of Huni, was now fighting down a fresh blush as Tamaki quietly started playing a self-penned piece, titled plain for all to see as 'Not Nothing To Him'.

Kyoya smiled. Things had quietened down a little since the 'Ouran Fair' debacle, but Haruhi was still timid in her affections towards Tamaki. After her impassioned defence of half the club and her dangerous attempt to bring Tamaki back to them, Kyoya had expected Haruhi to be a little more forthright about her feelings for their King. Tamaki however took it all in his stride, happy to affectionately tease her and content enough with her company and attention. This did rile the twins beyond belief, but by the pair of them keeping their relationship low key, they were both still able to function within the Host Club. Something Kyoya was keen to maintain, to no one's surprise.

"We've still got 30 minutes, haven't we?" muttered Haruhi as she shuffled to Kyoya's side. She was dressed like the others, the soft browns of her three piece suit giving her the unassuming air of the teaching assistant she was portraying.

"Yes," Kyoya murmured quietly, "but I feel it's best to break them out of bad habits. They do tend to leave times until the last moment. Also," he said as he turned away and took up his set at a desk that was meant to be that of an 'Advisor of Studies', but really just served to make him appear as more of a brooding overlord, "I'd feel a little happier if we have some breathing time before our guests arrive. A buffer period if you will, in case any, ah," he smiled gentle, "eccentricities, come tumbling through our doors."

"Oh, is that what I am, an eccentricity?" Haruhi said, crossing her arms over her chest and looking a little indignant.

"Most certainly," Kyoya replied, "and just think, if you hadn't tumbled in such a spectacular fashion, you wouldn't be here today."

"Yeah, well, don't go making me question my fate. I may not like the answers." Haruhi said ruefully, blushing again as she sent a sideways smile in Tamaki's direction. "You boys may have all but monopolised every minute of my wakening hours, but on some levels, I suppose I'm grateful."

"Oh good heavens," Kyoya chuckled. "Ms. Fuijoka shows appreciation, I may faint!"

"Just to let you know, you fall over; I'll leave you on the floor." Haruhi stuck her tongue out as she crossed the room to join Tamaki on his piano stool. Kyoya shock his head vaguely as he schooled his features into his usual cool expression. Settling behind the desk, he straightened his tie and steepled his fingers, elbows resting on the table top. He scanned the room again, observing the twins rehearsal. It always amused Kyoya that without a doting audience the twins were so business like, blocking with precision and control. They paused though, to cast Cheshire cat grins over to Tamaki as he crumpled slightly as Haruhi managed to put her foot in her mouth without even realising.

Kyoya smiled to himself, yes, everything in their strange little club/family/group was settling again, shifting and fitting together better than before that Éclair girl had dragged her manicured, pained talons through them all. Tamaki was happier then Kyoya had ever seen him, the twins were making peace with their old demons and opening up to the rest of the school. Kyoya himself had stepped out from under the shadows of his father and his older brothers, and what's more, he'd done it on his own terms. Yes, this year was going to be good for them all.

In a future time and place, Kyoya will stop mid-stride, remember this internal monologue, and then proceed to smack himself silly for being so stupid, so optimistic, so very _Tamaki_. But by then, there will be more pressing issues. And Kyoya couldn't ponder on his own observations now either, for at that moment the doors of the Music Room swung inwards, 20 minutes ahead of schedule. The basket balance on the door mantle toppled, spilling red rose petals into the door way, and from under the rustling came an indigent and slightly muffled yelp. Out of the corner of his vision, Kyoya saw each of the other members scrambling into their respective places in the centre of the room, as he himself rushed to stand beside the 'King's Throne', just as Tamaki threw himself into the chair in the midst of them. Their proffered 'Welcome, to the Ouran Host Club' faltered and died in their throats as the cloud of petals settled. Standing in the door way appeared to be, not a handful of eager and blushing Ouran girls, rather a youth, a black Labrador at heel, standing there, delicately spitting out rose petals.


	3. Chapter 3

Haruhi blinked, quirking an eyebrow as the group looked on at the new arrival. The youth stood in the doorway, delicately picking petals out of hair and brushing off shoulders. No one moved, all staring at the stranger with looks ranging from expectancy to incredulity.

"Huh…."

The look on Tamaki's face won't be far wrong if someone had pressed the reboot button in his head. The hand that had been curled around his chin now hung without purpose under his jaw. Haruhi gave up looking to their king for behavioural queues and glanced at the other members. Kyoya looked as if he was fighting the urge to raise a hand to the bridge of his nose and pinch. Mori stood as stoic and calm as ever but Huni was leaning precariously off his cousin's shoulder, trying to get a closer look at the new arrival. Haruhi felt herself sympathising with their shadow king. First herself, then Renge, then Shiro, the Lobelia girls, Kirimi, the newspaper club, Chika, Kasanoda and finally Éclair. How many storms were going to blow through their doors disguised as ordinary human beings? Haruhi's gut reaction was one of slight panic.

The look on the twins' faces said they thought something quite different of the new comer.

Fresh meat.

The pair of them peeled away from the group and trotted towards the youth. Arriving one on either side they began to circle, also trapping the Labrador closer to its master's legs. The new arrival said nothing, just maintained an 'at-ease' stance in the doorway and held eye contact with which ever brother was facing them.

"So what do you think this one wants?" Kaoru drawls as he appears in front of the strangers eyes.

"I don't know", Hikaru's voice had the same lazy drawl, replacing his brother as they continued to move. "Do you think it's to ask for an apprenticeship or to express some undying love. Hmm." The pair of them stopped their circling so one stood either side of the stranger. Each suddenly lent forward to drape themselves over a shoulder; chests flush against arms and shoulder blades. They smirked a little as the body beneath then went from tense to rigid and coiled with nervous energy. "So," the two purred in unison, "what can we do for you stranger?"

The youth bristled but made no reply, reached swiftly to the pocket of their shirt once senses seemed to return and fished out an envelope. It was held up under Hikaru's nose, who just blinked dumbly at it before Kaoru sighed and plucked it up, holding it up to read with a snap of the wrist.

"It's address to Mori-Sempai," he said with mild interest. He looked over to the senior and nodding to himself, started walking back to the group still examining the envelope. It was heavy duty and of high quality but still small, no lager then a memo card. The tongue of the envelope was tucked inside the main body, the gold gilt of the Ouran crest just visible above the edge meaning the letter had obviously come from the powers on high. Kaoru drew breathe to announce these observations until he saw a flicker of moment out of the corner of his eye, swiftly followed by a thud. The messenger had followed him into the room and obviously Hikaru hadn't been ready for the loss of a leaning post, seeing as he was currently muttering a few choice words into the polished floor. Kaoru blinked a little owlishly and lengthen his stride in order to hand over the card to Mori. Mori took it and flicked it open, Huni peering over his shoulder to read it with him.

In normal circumstances, the rest of the group might very well have followed suit, but all other eyes were still on the messenger, now stood in front of Tamaki's throne, hands behind their back.

"OK, thank you, good sir. You can go now." Hikaru sniffed a little as he wheeled to stand in front of the stranger. They made no move, but the Labrador whined quietly looking from the youth to the group. The animal's noise seemed to be what Tamaki needed to break him out of his stupor. Suddenly he was crouched in front of the dog at eye level, a dazed happy grin on his face as he rubbed at the dog's ear.

"Is there anything we can help you with?" Kyoya said quietly stepping out from behind the throne and gently nudging the twins to one side so that they no longer obscured the stranger from view. The twins shuffled over, periodically making synchronised shoo-ing motions. Kyoya narrowed his eyes at the new arrival and leaned back a little, holding his journal against this chest. "I don't know this one," he said pensively. He looked down at Tamaki, who was currently in a fit of delight as the dog had obliged him by raising a paw to shake. "Haruhi," he sighed turning away and moving back toward his laptop. "Please make sure our guest is comfortable, I have some research to carry out."

"Umm…." Haruhi cast a nervous glance up to Mori and Huni, but the two of them made no move to acknowledge anyone in the room, solely focused on the letter before them. "Umm, alright." Haruhi approached cautiously and cleared her throat. The stranger didn't move. She tried again. Still nothing. The stranger keep staring at Mori-Sempai, but never locking gazes. "Is there anything, umm, anything I can help you with?" The visitor didn't even meet her eyes, didn't register her presence at all. Haruhi turned stiffly and regarded the group imploring. Tamaki, finally seemed to stubble back into the world of the living. His Haruhi being snubbed seemed to sting him a bit.

"Didn't hear, good sir? You were asked a question." He'd adopted what they all knew he thought was a menacing expression, but in reality was little more than a moody pout. "Answer! How dare you ignore my precious Haruhi!" If Haruhi had been paying full attention to Tamaki, there may have been a sign and a roll of the eyes. But her attention was on the stranger's face. Tamaki had invaded the new comer's personal space and was now ranting into their face. The youth has broken their odd 'parade-rest' stance and had place a foot back to give their self a larger base, arms by their side. My their eyes were tight and on Tamaki's mouth. There was no flushed cheeks or glassy eyes that cause Haruhi any worry about someone trying something when the man she is very tentatively calling hers, but the eyes are tight, as if concentrating really hard. Their lips are moving too, as if trying to mutter under their breathe, but there was no sound.

"Tamaki?" Haruhi ventured, trying to get their king to calm down.

"Tell us who you are boy, or be thrown from the room!" Tamaki crowed, pointing an imperious finger in the stranger's face.

"Tamaki," Kyoya's computer gave a victorious little 'bing' noise just before his patient voice had joined the ruckus.

"As King of the Host Club," Tamaki raise is hand skyward, and valiantly ignored his too large sleeves as they bunched around his upper arm, "I command you to tell us who you are!"

"Tamaki." Mori's deep voice snapped all attention in the room to him. "She won't."

"Wha?"

"She won't." Mori moved around the assembled hosts to stand directly in front of the visitor. The stranger's attention snapped to him immediately and offered Mori a quick, fractured smile. He responded with a quiet huff, raising his hands to chest height. There was a moment when flurried hand movement. Everyone blinked in confusion.

"She can't," came Huni's soft sad voice. The hosts turned to look at him as he walked forward to stand at his cousin's side, face turned up to regard the pair of them, their hands fluttering back and forth. "She's deaf."

"Can't...", Haruhi breathed.

"Deaf?", the twins queried.

"SHE!?", Tamaki squawked.


End file.
